


The Emissary and the Merchant

by _crime lord_ (goddamnit_cherik)



Series: John Wick Vs. The MCU [1]
Category: John Wick (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action, Angst, Attempted Murder, BAMF John Wick, BAMF Tony Stark, BAMFs, Blood and Violence, Continental Hotel (John Wick), Creepy Alexander Pierce, Crimes & Criminals, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drinking, Emotionally Repressed, Gen, Gore, Hydra (Marvel), Intrigue, Murder, Organized Crime, Political Alliances, Pre-Canon, Pre-HYDRA Reveal, Pre-Iron Man 1, Pre-John Wick (2014), The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Unresolved Sexual Tension, War Crimes, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, wick has issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-06-29 21:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19839139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnit_cherik/pseuds/_crime%20lord_
Summary: Tony Stark is the most dangerous man in the world. With an army of weapons and hired help on his side, nothing and no one ordinary could touch him. Unfortunately, the High Table is no ordinary criminal organization. Within the High Table's circle, all rules must be obeyed, even when it hurts. And to Alexander Pierce, nothing hurts more than owing a blood debt. And to complicate matters even further, in order to pay off the debt he must kill The Merchant of Death, Tony Stark himself.But, of course nothing could ever be simple in John Wick's world. And Death's very Emissary was determined to make everything as complicated as possible.A.K.A. Wick is Stark's bodyguard against the might of H.Y.D.R.A.





	1. What A Bastard You Are, John Wick

Wick stepped into the dark first class hotel room, his eyes taking a second to adjust; eyes that scanned for his target, a fool who had refused to fulfill the marker he owed. He reached down for his gun, but his target beat him to it. Without warning, he was tackled to the ground and held in place by a boot to the neck. 

"Oh shit, you're John Wick! They sent _you_ after me?" The man's voice quivered with poorly contained panic. Wick used this to his advantage. With a snake-like move, John violently pushed up and knocked his assailant off of him. While his target was temporarily off balance, John whipped out his Sig P226 and aimed it right at his target's heart. 

"Last chance. Fulfill the marker or die." Wick's voice was steady and unnervingly calm. 

"Sorry man, I think I'll take my chances somewhere else." He ducked to evade John's sudden bullet and lunged for the assassin's legs. Reacting with lightning speed, John rolled over his target's back and spun around to face him again. In the split second before either of the men attacked, John noticed the wild look in his opponent's eyes. He was scared beyond belief. _Good._

Taking his target's fear into account, Wick shot him in the lower abdomen and rushed him. His foe went limp and attempted to slip away, but John's vice grip held him still. However, John decided that his target wasn't sufficiently frightened yet. In one swift and sure motion, John broke the glass hotel window. The target's head was now hanging outside in the cold night, one slight push away from falling eighty nine floors to his death. The biting wind nipped at his cheeks hungrily. 

"This is what happens when you refuse to serve." 

Desperate to live, the target tried to forget Wick's deep voiced declaration and focus on the sounds of other men coming to investigate the disturbance. 

"Looks like serving only got _you_ in a tight spot." 

John mentally rolled his eyes. Another target thinking he was a smart ass. With barely a second thought John let go of the target and watched him flail all the way down eighty nine floors. The crunch of his body hitting the ground was too far away to hear. But John could imagine it. 

Unfortunately the assassin couldn't get a second to breathe. Twelve more men filed in, guns in hand. They all spotted John instantly and took aim. Following his instincts, Wick dove behind a couch and counted the bullets. Once he heard the oh so familiar click of an empty gun he fired all twelve rounds his gun held. It seemed luck was smiling on him; all his shots had been head shots. Perfect. Just as he was standing up to make his quick escape John's pager began to beep. He raised an eyebrow; his pager was never used for anything less than an emergency. But John found that he didn't care, as long as the emergency offered good money and a decent challenge for once. Wick was at the end of his patience with the easy jobs Winston was handing out these days. His predatory instincts were aching for a real hunt, and collecting debts from lowlifes was just not doing it for John Wick. 

_"The High Table has a special job for you. New York Continental, as soon as possible."_ The pager said. John let himself smile, something he hadn't done for a few days now. Finally, something interesting. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The New York Continental wasn't John Wick's favorite place, but it exuded an energy of order that he greatly appreciated. Everything was clean and crisp, with no unpleasantness in sight. Even the discussions of business were secretive and steeped in code words. The gleaming walls and excellent service could almost let John forget how many people he had put in the ground over the years. 

"Mr. Wick. Should I let the manager know you're here?" The concierge's voice cut through John's thoughts with a soothing clarity. 

"Yes, thank you." Nodding slightly, Charon picked up his phone. 

"He'll see you down in the bar." 

Sparing no extra time, John passed Charon a gold coin and turned around. 

"Keep it." 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Once John entered the bar he wasted no time in getting himself a drink. He was more fatigued from the earlier battle than he had originally thought, but a good meal and more than a few drinks loosened him right up. Finally deciding he was rested enough, he picked himself up from the bar to look for Winston. Luckily, the Manager wasn't far at all. 

"Jonathon. You took your time." 

John turned to see the stocky older man behind him. He looked unusually grim. _Great._

"Yeah. What did you want to discuss with me?" John was never one to waste words. 

"Well, one of "our" associates, Alexander Pierce, owes a marker." John groaned mentally. Again with the markers? "This morning he was approached by its holder and asked to send his best man out to kill someone. Standard. However, the particular target he was commanded to kill is of great importance. The High Table wants me, and by proxy _you,_ to protect this man by any means necessary." 

Although he didn't show any sign of it outwardly, John was intrigued. This order apparently came directly from the Table itself, which meant someone huge was involved. Only a handful of people in the whole world could necessitate this kind of response, and all of them were unpleasant as hell. 

"Who?" 

"Tony Stark." 

_Tony Stark._ Now that was a name everyone knew by now. His legend as a boy genius and later a playboy "philanthropist" was well documented. John didn't need to read his file to understand that Stark was a bored, hedonistic fox with no desire to stop having fun any time soon. John had heard stories of outrageous sex parties and alcohol tasting events that only the richest of the rich could afford. An aura of pure, unadulterated madness surrounded Stark, but John knew there was more to him than that. There was a cold razor's edge to Stark. There was a sleeping demon inside him that matched with John's. Maybe that was why Wick hated the idea of protecting him. 

"Why me?" 

"We need our best man on this, Jonathon, and I'm afraid that's you." Winston's grim face slackened just a little. "Stark is in his Malibu house currently. You'll need this if you want full clearance for the entire house." Winston handed John a badge with his name and picture on it. "I suggest you go now; Pierce sent his man already." 

John didn't appreciate being late, so he just nodded at the Manager and turned to leave. 

"Oh, and Jonathon? Don't hold back." 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As he was being flown to California, John contemplated his task. The whole situation was set up as win/lose, which was incredibly irritating. The marker had to be fulfilled but John could not fail in his task, which meant one of the participants in this game had to give up eventually. One would lose his life, the other his dignity. Although John's reputation was fearsome and not the least bit exaggerated he still did not want to weaken it even by an inch. He would absolutely not fail, not while he was guarding such a high profile man. Tony Stark may be an asshole, but he was a rich and important asshole. 

The more John thought about protecting Stark the more excited he became. This could be a _real_ challenge; this could finally be the job that gets his heart racing. He hadn't had a properly challenging encounter in what seemed like months. His hands twitched, feeling an imaginary firearm. God, his profession really had rotted him from the inside out. 

_What a bastard you are, John Wick._


	2. Colder Than Frostbite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a lot of tony stark goodness in this chapter I promise.

John wasn't prepared for just how magnificent and tricked out Tony Stark's house was. 

It was huge and had a view that would rival even the most expensive beach house anywhere else. John owned a place that had a similar layout, but his house paled in comparison to Stark's. But John didn't have time to be jealous of his ward's house; he had a job to do. 

But before he could even knock, one of the front doors swung open. A heavyset man in a standard security suit popped out and smiled at John. 

"Ah, you must be one of Tony's new bodyguards! Come in, he's waiting for you." 

John cocked his head in acknowledgment and followed the stocky man inside. John had glanced at his badge and noticed that his name was "Happy Hogan". Interesting. 

"Oh and uh, I gotta warn you. Mr. Stark is in a pretty... _extra_ mood today. A bit too much wine I think..." John was processing Hogan's words when a half naked woman brushed past him suddenly. 

"Too much _wine?"_ John replied with no small hint of snark. Hogan laughed in a strangled kind of way. 

The house's main living room was massive but that wasn't what John first noticed about it. His eye was caught by the crane looking robot feeding Tony Stark grapes. It was a hilarious sight indeed, but Wick's marine training kicked in at the perfect time. 

"No Dummy, you're missing my mouth, its right here! This hole in my face is my _mouth,_ get it?" Stark's speech was slurred slightly and high pitched. "Little to the left, come on." He slapped the robot playfully, as if to encourage it. 

"Uh Tony? You have a guest here!" Happy's voice drew Stark's eyes to John and then behind him. 

"Where'd Samantha go? I payed her to be here."

Happy grimaced. "She probably had other stuff to do, you know. But anyway, this is your new bodyguard! Exciting right? He's...uh..." Hogan looked at John. "What's your name?" He whispered. 

"Wick. John Wick." 

"Ah, James Bond reference, I approve." Stark was talking oddly fast now. "You're the guy that the Table sent right? Mm, they know my type at least." Stark's twinkling eyes scanned John's body, recognizing how lethal he really was. Wick was a black panther curled up in a cat's demeanor. Definitely his type. 

"You know?" Wick's eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

"Of course I know!" Stark laughed. "You guys may think you're stealthy hiding in plain sight, but anyone bored or perceptive enough could find you." Even though Stark's body language was relaxed John still tensed up. What else did he know about? 

"Well, I'll leave you guys to it, whatever _it_ is. _"_ Happy interjected; he recognized the strained atmosphere Tony had just put him in. Without another word it was just Stark and Wick in the huge living room. 

"You don't talk much, do you." Stark had a curious look on his face. He let his statement hang in the dead air for a moment before smiling crookedly. "Talking too much traumatize you or something?" 

"I find that it's easier to hear incoming threats if I'm not constantly _chattering."_

Stark laughed raucously, but before he could finish John turned around abruptly and swiped out his gun. 

"I suggest you get down." 

Precisely when John expected, men in heavy tactical gear stormed the house. John noticed their military grade weapons. 

"Holy shit, you heard their footsteps! You might actually live up to your rep-" Before Stark could finish his sentence John pushed Tony roughly down to the glossy floor. With no expression John put up one finger over his mouth. What he really wanted to do was berate his ward for being such a dumbass. 

"There! Behind the couch!" One of the soldiers yelled. Taking this as his cue, John pounced. With a quick body shot followed by a head shot, the front most man was down. Turning his head slightly, John counted at least twenty men. Ducking back behind the couch, John checked in on Tony. Still alive, great. 

Sparing no more time John was back on his feet with a shotgun in hand. He dashed over to an upturned table and fired. One shell popped out, then another. One man down. This continued until one of the opposition decided enough was enough. Scrunching himself down into a small ball, John waited patiently until their submachine guns ran out of ammunition. Once he heard the click John leaped over the table and grappled with the closest man. The others had finished reloading by now and pointed their guns at what they thought was their target. But, all they hit was the body of their fellow soldier. Jumping on the opportunity, John nicked the dead man's SMG and fired from behind his "shield". Two others went down before the submachine gun was empty. Breathing out, John repaired himself to sprint back over to the couch. 

"Hey JARVIS? Could you activate the house's defense system?" Stark's thick voice permeated the sounds of battle like a river through a forest. 

"Of course Sir." 

"Thank you so much dear." Stark purred. 

Before John could admonish Stark for announcing his location, the house went dark. Boxy shapes descended from the ceiling and swiveled around. 

"Target all intruders and fire when ready JARVIS." 

The shapes, apparently guns, all responded to their master's orders. The armored men all tried to take cover, but they were a second too short. Their gear was ripped apart by armor piercing bullets leaving their sensitive bodies exposed. Nothing was spared, however. When the barrage finally ceased and the darkness lifted from the house, Wick had to resist the urge to look away. The carnage that covered the floor was visceral and shiny as one of Stark's red sports cars. 

"All hostile life signs negative, Sir." JARVIS's silky smooth voice hid no sympathy. 

"Wow, what a fight!" Stark popped up from behind his now destroyed couch with a wild spark in his eyes. "We're a great team!" 

John picked his way carefully through the bodies that covered the floor, all the while staring right into Stark's feral eyes. John stopped right at the edge of Stark's personal bubble and looked down at him condescendingly. 

" _You_ are a man-child with an AR Tactical Intelligence System. _I_ am your personal body guard." Wick paused. "What about that screams _team_ to you, Mr. Stark." Venom was positively dripping off of his words. John had let his stoic mask slip for just a second; he had let Stark see his untempered, pure self for just a moment. Instead of backing off Stark stepped into the space between them and returned the demon's glare. 

"I love when you get all evil like that. Gives me tingles." 

His words were colder than frostbite. 


	3. Clash Of Titans

Alexander Pierce hated Markers. They complicated everything. He had already lost twenty good HYDRA soldiers to John Wick; he didn't want to lose any more. That was why he was sitting across from his finest man, The Winter Soldier, on this chilly New York afternoon. 

"We'll send you to Stark's Malibu mansion in the evening. But, I have to warn you...the Table sent a man to guard him. One of their _best_ I heard. Baba Yaga."

The Winter Soldier said nothing in response. He only cocked his head in recognition of John Wick's alias. Barnes had heard vague whispers from the HYDRA medics whenever they fixed up other soldiers. This _Boogeyman_ was dreaded everywhere he went. He always got his mark, no matter the level of security or the skill of the target. His allegiance was hard won, and almost never bought. 

"Be careful around him." Pierce stood up from the round dinner table the two men were sitting at. "I will not tolerate failure of course. Stark is to be eliminated no matter who, or what, stands in your way." 

The Secretary's greatest soldier nodded in response, stoic as always. But deep in his core he was unsure. Unsure which of them, The Ghost or The Boogeyman, would prevail in their upcoming clash of titans.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

John Wick couldn't be around Tony Stark. Not after their last conversation. 

Stark was absolutely insane. Never before had John met someone as bold as he was. He had just sauntered right into his space and stared him down. No one dared to try that with John Wick, ever. But some other feeling was mixing in with John's current feelings of shock. _Adrenaline._ John's heartbeat had quickened when Stark was ruffling his feathers. His blood roared in his ears, not unlike what happened when John engaged in intense battle. Tony Stark had cracked his mask. That feat alone was worthy of a standing ovation. No one, inside the assassin world or not, could force John's mask to slip so readily. 

But John couldn't afford to think about that right now. Pierce would continue to send his goons out and John would have to keep fending them off. He wouldn't fail Winston, no matter how maddening Stark became. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

_God, I've made a mistake._

John had fatally underestimated Tony and how vexing he could be. After their little stare down and John's migration over to the kitchen, Stark had begun fiddling with one of his many inventions. John heard him chattering to his Artificial Intelligence about fabrication time, facial recognition, and so on. Snippets of the conversation John caught were cloaked in clandestine code words. Once John had tried to sneak a peek at what Stark was building. That had only gotten him a smarmy glance and a flippant remark. 

"What are you, the devil on my shoulder?" 

The afternoon passed with little to no trouble, except for the time that Tony had attempted to sabotage John's shower break with brightly colored shampoo. Stark was laughing until John came out and threw the entire bottle at him with startling accuracy. Now Stark had an ugly bruise on his back that throbbed like an angry lover. 

However, the evening was much more eventful. 

"Stark, get in your bedroom. It's safer there than here." 

Tony's trademarked Cheshire cat grin beamed at John. "Of course, I'm never one to disobey tall, dark, and scary men telling me to get in my bedroom." 

John rolled his eyes and cocked his gun. That seemed to shut up Stark. 

For around thirty minutes everything was peaceful and quiet. Until it wasn't, of course. 

A smoke bomb rolled over the polished floor and erupted with a violent pop. John took a position on the staircase to get a better view of the house before it was completely covered with smoke. Instead of spotting the hundreds of men he was expecting, he just saw one lone soldier. _A metal arm?_

John didn't have time to think about his new opponent's advantages as he was being shot at. The bullets lodged into the wall behind him as he adeptly dropped to the floor. Using his new position he took a shot in the dark. No luck. Silently cursing, John instead took a risk; he launched himself forward towards his attacker and used a spare knife to stab at the soldier's armored knees. Not enough force was used, so the knife just stuck into the knee plate awkwardly. However, the Winter Soldier wasn't expecting it, therefore John wasn't immediately shot dead. The soldier hadn't been completely disoriented; he grabbed John's extended arm and pulled on it. John let himself be violently swung over his opponent's shoulder; his arm would've been ripped out of its socket had he resisted. Quickly rolling back onto his feet John waited for the Soldier to swing in attack. Once he did John ducked under it and barreled into the other man, taking him down to the floor. 

The two grappled there for a few minutes, each trying to prevent the other from getting back on their feet. John tried to get on top of the Soldier to choke him, but his metal arm always held him back with ease. Noticing the senselessness of that tactic, John moved on to scrambling for his dropped gun. Rapidly grasping it, John flipped around and fired a shot. It pierced the Soldier's lower abdominal armor but didn't seem to cause too much damage. Unfortunate for John. 

He didn't get another chance to fire again since he was being tackled. The soldier slipped a knife from his belt and slashed at John's exposed neck. John tried to hold the knife back, but of course the Soldier's metal arm was too strong. Attempting to minimize the incoming damage, John twisted in place and let his cheek get slashed instead. The white hot pain this caused was somewhat diminished by the sheer amount of adrenaline that was pulsing through John's veins. Before the knife could bear down on him again John kicked at the Soldier's chest. He was pushed away just far enough for John to jump to his feet. 

"Stark! Get your ass out here! We're leaving!" John knew that they couldn't stay in the house; they had a much higher chance of survival if they got to the Los Angeles Continental. 

Right on cue Stark cracked open the door and peered out at John. "You got it Chief. JARVIS? Activate the house's defenses again." With a purr and a whir JARVIS complied. The guns once again descended from the ceiling and targeted the Winter Soldier. 

John gestured impatiently to Stark, who signaled to the guns. "Let's take my sports car." 

Choosing not to question or protest Stark's choice of car, John bolted out the front door with his charge gasping behind him. The mounted guns were firing at the Soldier, who took cover with a sour look in his eyes. Once the two breached the outside world, a loud _vroom_ sounded and a shiny car pulled up to greet them. 

"Where are we going exactly?" Stark's breathy voice indicted he was winded. 

"Somewhere safe." 

"Great, I feel better already with that detailed answer." 

John sighed in mild frustration and took the driver's seat.

"I hope you weren't too attached to this car." 


	4. Iron Behind Your Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this headcanon that John grew up as Ruska Roma with Russian as his mother tongue, so his natural accent is Russian. That might pop up a little here.

John Wick had one destination in mind; the Continental. The Winter Soldier had other plans. 

John was expertly swerving through Los Angeles traffic, never taking his eyes off the road. The bright red sports car hummed and purred in response to John's experienced hands, every successful corner turned only further galvanized the assassin. His passenger, Tony Stark himself, was rambling as usual. 

"You know, I'm really proud of this latest invention! It can disguise your face perfectly as any person in the world! It was a royal pain in the ass to get the facial recognition and mapping right but once I factored in the contouring it really was a breeze-" 

John cut him off with a curt grunt. "I'd be able to save your life more efficiently if you shut up for once." His husky voice was straining with effort. 

"Oh I'm sorry Mr. Wicked _Wick_ of the West, is my genius disturbing you? I thought _I_ was the client?" John rushed over a speed bump and Tony bounced up and down with a satisfying yelp. 

"You are. Doesn't mean I have to take your shit. Очарование и красивое лицо только унесут вас." In a moment of weakness John's accent devolved into its natural Russian. 

"Whatever you just said, I'm sure it was very flattering. Thank you for your kind words." Stark huffed with childish ambivalence and crossed his arms. Barely a moment of blissful silence had passed when he spoke again. "Is that soldier guy pointing a gun at us?" 

Indeed, the Winter Soldier was aiming his handgun out the window of his stolen car. John locked eyes with the Soldier before ducking into the car's dash. "Get down!" Bullets pelted the car, but only a few managed to penetrate the specially reinforced steel. The barrage temporarily distracted John, leading him to scrape the car against the side of the curb violently. The resulting nails-on-chalkboard sound made Stark cringe. 

"Hey hey, be nice to her!" He frantically yelped at his bodyguard, who was currently trying to keep the car upright and in front of their pursuer. Throwing the empty handgun down, the Soldier expertly pulled out a bigger shotgun. The blast from it knocked out the windows, sending shards of sharp glass flying. John instinctively leaned to protect his ward; all this earned him was a few gashes across the face. Suppressing his scream of pain, John instead turned his rage to the soldier behind him. Slamming on the brakes, the car's rear connected with the Soldier's car in an aggressive motion. Without warning John yanked the car around to face his stunned opponent. 

"Я еду сюда." The boogeyman made no attempt to conceal his escalating blood thirst. Finally wising up, Tony edged away from the driver and fished around for his own gun. He produced a small glock and attempted to look like he knew what he was doing with it. 

John held nothing back and rammed the sports car into the other vehicle. Both machines were now crumpled like discarded pieces of paper; this didn't seem to faze John Wick. Seeing his enemy momentarily frazzled, he took the only opportunity presented to him and turned right around. He floored it towards the gleaming Continental hotel in the distance. 

"You were saying about your new _invention?"_ The assassin's voice held nothing of the feral glee it dripped with only a moment before. 

Tony was captivated and petrified at the same time. "Jesus Christ Terminator, you killed my fucking car!" He was really more concerned about his "bodyguard" than anything else. He was absolutely crazy! Maybe he was even more of an adrenaline junkie then Tony was, if that was even possible. 

"Tell me about your face changer, Stark." 

"Great, _now_ you're interested. With my latest gadget anyone could look like anyone else, with just a quick scan! Why the sudden interest?" Tony was genuinely interested now, already beginning to form a few hypothesis' about his protector. The only fact that he could truly count on was that he worked under the High Table, and that he was most likely from a Russian speaking country. Not a lot to go on, if he was being honest. 

"I have a plan." 

"Oh, you have a _plan_ do ya? Is this plan past the brainstorming stage yet, by any chance?" Tony never missed an opportunity to snark. 

Wick almost cracked a smile. "I have a feeling you wouldn't like the answer." 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The two were approaching the Continental with the Winter Soldier hot on their tails. John couldn't lose him, no matter how hard he tried. So, he attempted the next best thing; getting in the Continental safe zone as quickly as possible. Skidding to a screeching halt, John wordlessly motioned for Stark to follow him out of the vehicle. The exhausted sports car finally gave out just as the Winter Soldier leaped out of his stolen Mercedes. Letting Stark rush past him, John pulled out his favorite German gun and fired. The Soldier blocked the bullets with his arm and knocked Wick to the ground. 

"Hey, don't keep a lady waiting Johnny!" Stark was holding the door open for John, who was still tussling with the Soldier. With a huff, John slipped out from under his attacker and blindly ran for the Continental's golden glow. A chill ran up his spine as the Soldier's metal fingers just barely brushed his leg. 

But now he could take a breath; no business was to be conducted on Continental grounds. They were safe. _For now, of course._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Stark was eyeing John like he was a newly roasted steak. What an interesting and mysterious man his bodyguard was. He hadn't cared to pay much attention to him back at the Malibu house; he just seemed to Tony like an ordinary hired gun. But after seeing Wick in action he came to a much more intriguing conclusion. He was remarkably similar to Tony himself; he hid behind a carefully constructed mask. This mask was his _persona,_ and the persona was very skilled indeed. They both hid behind skills and false reassurances that everyone else just accepted as reality. John's outward appearance was one of collected stoicism and formality, but inside he hid a raging demon. This demon smiled when blood was spilled and lives were ruined in its wake. He kept this darkness close to the vest, _too close_ perhaps. With no outlet, the hellfire kept building and building until it reached its inevitable, _ineffable_ crescendo. 

Not unlike Tony's very own hellfire. Stark had always enjoyed alcohol and the release from his lonesome life it offered. Nobody in Tony's life realized the extent of his substance abuse; it was to the point where he was high or drunk more than sober. It twisted and corrupted his typical amicable attitude. It stoked the flames of his recklessness into a roaring blaze. With all his unrestrained intellect Tony Stark knew that he was rapidly approaching an overdose. It was inescapable. And the worst part? Tony relished the knowledge. 

The two tormented men had devils underneath their skin. At least Tony was able to admit it to himself. What would he have to do to share that same epiphany with John? 

"Give me your gadget." Wick's rough voice inserted itself into Tony's head rudely. Wick himself had walked right up to Stark without making so much as a peep. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Give it to me." His fingers twitched in anticipation. 

"I need to know what the plan is first! Did your KGB buddies forget to tell you what a plan is?" Stark hadn't meant his words to provoke, but they did nevertheless. 

"Marines. And I might consider telling you on the way." 

_So that's where he learned to be so stoic and unflinching._ "On the way? To where? We're already in the safest place we can be." Stark knew he had made a fatal mistake before he even finished uttering the words. 

"Suit yourself." John pointed absentmindedly to the Winter Soldier standing just a few feet away. He was watching them like a hungry hawk. 

"Oh shit. Lead the way." 

John did indeed lead him all the way down to the underground bar. Tony knew that places like this existed, but he had never actually experienced an assassin speakeasy before. It was not far off from what he imagined. 

"I need you to find someone. About your height, same color hair." John had pulled Stark close to speak softly into his ear. "Charm them, then bring them to me." 

The smirk that graced Stark's face pleased John. 

"Finally, something I _can_ do." Tony winked at John and slid through the crowd over to the counter. He spotted a man in a pristine black suit throwing back shots of gin. His height seemed to be right and with some light tousling his hair would be just wavy enough. _Perfect._

"Now why's a pretty lad like you doing shots all by yourself?" Tony opened up his body language to look as inviting as possible, and it honestly wasn't that difficult. This guy was just the right amount of handsome for Tony Stark. 

"Just completed a job a little bit ago! Thought I'd celebrate with a little booze; you know how it is." His voice was a delightfully rough southern accent.

"A job huh? What type of job could possibly be good enough for such a handsome gentleman?" Tony leaned in and spoke softly to further intrigue his mark. 

"Oh my!" His face was now flushed with embarrassment. "Well it was supposed to be simple really. I go in, kill the ambassador, get out. But of _course_ the bodyguards were fucking brutal and wouldn't let little ol' me through. So what do I do? I ambush 'em in the bathroom! Those poor bastards never saw it comin'." He downed another shot. "The ambassador was a bitch, he deserved it anyway. Getting paid was only a bonus." 

Tony could see that with a little more prodding and a few more shots he would have his mark in his arms in no time.

"Oh, I'm sure. But let me ask you something; you seem like an honest fella. What would be the perfect job? The job you would relish completing?" Stark's words infatuated the tipsy hitman. 

"Christ, that's a tough question! Well, I gotta say, I would love to chase down the biggest, most fickle asshole in the world and give them a _piece of my mind."_ His eyes twinkled back at Tony deliciously. 

_That_ was the way in. Jealousy. 

John was also at the bar, but a few seats away. He had been idly chatting with the bartender before he caught the last few words of Stark's flirting session. It seemed to be going quite well. John didn't expect Stark to stand up from his stool and approach him however. He was about to open his mouth and hiss at Stark for breaking conversation. He didn't get a chance. Tony's lips locked with his in one startling moment. john wanted to pull away but found something bubbling in his stomach instead. John almost reached out to pull Tony closer, but the smaller man pulled away before he could claim him. 

Sitting back down, Stark sighed seductively. "Sorry, I was dying to do that all day; the mysterious ones always have the best lips. Anyway, you were saying?" The other assassin was silent, desire clear in his eyes.

"That was _John Wick_ you just smooched. You know, the Boogeyman?" 

" _Boogeyman?_ He's too beautiful for that _ugly_ nickname. What about you? With your skills I'm sure you have a nickname of your own?" The other blushed again. 

"Oh, I gave myself one, ain't that pathetic? Snake Charmer sounds just right." 

"Mm, well...you certainly have charmed this slippery snake." Tony got up once again but gestured with one finger to follow him. Eager to claim the handsome stranger, the Snake Charmer followed Stark. They stumbled into the men's room and began to embrace. The Snake Charmer's kisses were rough and needy while Stark's were stimulating and careful. Both men were too engaged to notice John Wick creeping into the restroom behind them. 

The Snake Charmer got in one last kiss before he jerked back from Tony. John was sticking a needle in his neck. 

"What the _hell?_ That's my property." 

John ignored the sudden pang of jealousy in his stomach and pulled the needle out. All of the drug had entered its new home. 

"Give me your face changer." John's voice was hushed. 

A realization struck Tony. He knew what the plan was now. Without another snarky word he scanned his own face and handed the invention over to his bodyguard. John proceeded to carefully cover the Snake Charmer's slack jawed face. 

"Here." Tony clicked a button and the fabric shimmered and flickered until a perfect copy of Tony's face was staring back at John. "Would you look at that? It's me!" Stark paused for a second. "Is that really how my nose looks to you...I should get that fixed. Anyway, what the hell was that shit you stuck in him?" 

John's eyes flashed with an unknown emotion. "Scopolamine, otherwise known as "Colombian Devil's Breath". Takes away free will for a short time." 

"What the _fuck?_ How have I never heard of that?" Tony was absolutely interested in how John got a hold of such a potent drug. 

"It's a fairly unknown drug. The Arrangement has a monopoly on it, but even if it didn't the CIA or whoever would probably keep it under wraps. Wouldn't want the unruly public knowing about it." That was the longest sentence Tony had ever heard John say. But John turned to the former Snake Charmer. "You are Tony Stark and I am your bodyguard. I am protecting you from a mercenary. Do whatever I tell you, alright?" John was stern and looked his "ward" right in his now sky-blue eyes. 

"I am Tony Stark and you are my bodyguard. I understand." His voice was subdued and compliant; not remotely flirtatious now. 

"Creepy." 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The threesome made their way back up to the surface level Continental plaza. The Winter Soldier was waiting there for them, eyes still dark with murderous intent. Tony-the real Tony-hadn't come out of the shadows. The Snake Charmer disguised as Tony was at John's side, not saying a word. John held the doors open for his "ward" and they both exited the Los Angeles Continental. The Winter Soldier was immediately upon them, striking at "Tony" with a vengeance. John didn't have time to whip out his gun so he instead tackled the Soldier. The fake Tony, with no instructions to follow, just stood there looking shell-shocked. 

The Soldier flipped John away from him in one enormous move and pulled his own gun from its holster. One, two, three gunshots sounded and Tony Stark crumpled to the ground. Taking his pulse and finding nothing, the Winter Soldier bolted. John took a few shots at him, but most were reflected by the Soldier's arm. One, however, lodged in his other exposed arm. Before John could aim for his head a S.H.I.E.L.D labeled car scooped him up off the street. A few moments later the car had disappeared.

"Well, isn't this a crying shame." John muttered to himself. The Snake Charmer had advanced on his ward, so his fate was sealed even if the Winter Soldier hadn't iced him. 

"Yeah, his southern accent was so delightful." Stark had come outside to see the fallout. He was dressed in the Snake Charmer's exquisite suit and a twisted smile to boot. "So, am I correct in assuming that we'll part ways now?" 

"Yeah." John's response was slow and almost disappointed with its answer. 

Tony's eyes softened. "Well, I'll be sure to give you five stars on assassin yelp. You _do_ have that at least?" 

John laughed for the first time while in Tony's presence. It was a heavenly sound to Tony; it filled his chest with a strange warmth he couldn't quite identity. 

"If you're going to take one thing from this stint of ours, take this one thing. You have iron behind your eyes. Don't hide from it or cover it up with alcohol. Embrace it." 

Tony so desperately wanted to say the same thing to John Wick. 


End file.
